A snipet. Surrounded by walls and things that contain memories of joy and love that held promise once.

An empty bed for two but one sleeps stretched out to take advantage of every inch.

Clothes escaping the dryer and left to die on the treadmill which once held promise.

Dishes wait patiently in the sink for a warm bath a sparkling dry from the dishwasher which remains unused.

Leaves blown in from the outside a reminder of whats to come.

Unfinished writings and art work, clay still in the box which too held potential.

A fridge full of food of which 90 percent has turned and omits a lovely odor every time the door is opened .

All these thing are in this box.

This box which was so full of promise but now holds contempt and loneliness.

Loneliness so thick it slows my stride from room to room making it harder to move but only to become part of the structure and things that I too once held potential


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